Of Wives and Wine
by KrisTerms
Summary: Harry ran away to France when he was seven, living on the Delacour's property most of the time and working for them.  He's been overlooked most of his life, but now he'll find himself lathered with attention. Rating will likely change to M. Redone May 27.


**AN: **Hey everyone. I've redone the first chapter, and Harry will have but one wife in this lifetime. But first loves don't always last, do they? Trust me, I've been to prom... But I digress- I'd just like to thank all the responses I've had for beta-ing and encouragements. I'd like to post the following chapter this week, but I'm working four jobs (college is expensive...) so I'm not sure if you should expect anything more this week. Reviews will help, though! Please enjoy.

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><p><strong>Of Wives and Wine<strong>

Chapter One

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><p><em>Your adventure will start once your choice is made. -Unknown<em>

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><p>Fleur watched the black haired young man as he instructed her sister with the horses she had taken a fancy to learning. More and more often she caught herself watching him, and it certainly had nothing to do with the way his body seemed especially filled out after she returned from school this year. Oh no. And it also had nothing to do with his lack of sexual interest in her, at least outward, or his polite, quiet, though at times boisterous demeanor. His charming eloquence and obvious grace? She barely took note of that. After all, she had known him for what seemed like her whole life. The magical boy who was never invited to a school. She was a bit ashamed to admit how easily she looked over him, but now she could not stop looking at him. It was as if her years of ignoring the harmless boy were saved up for now and hitting her all at once. She sighed. Why notice him <em>now<em>?

He was always doing _something_. That was the first thing she realized when he caught her attention. Sure, he came to their house at night during the week getting paid by her parents since his ragged seven year old self had first knocked on their door. He lived in the barn attic and was in charge of the grounds, keeping them and the animals tidy and happy and lively; But she hadn't really put together all that he did. She wasn't the only one- not by a long shot. Harry literally seemed to do _everything._ Twice a week he would clean a bakery at night, having permission to bake as he worked so long as the cleaning was done and he left something for the bakery the next morning. The small business was actually becoming rather well known for some of his treats, that's how good he was.

Mornings after he cleaned the bakery he also worked at the cafe across the street. Those same afternoons he would join the local muggle boys in games of soccer, being one of the better talents for their town. While she didn't know much of the sport, she could tell that he was an exceptional athlete after watching him play with the others.

Other days she had found him working at the library where he would check out a dozen books two or three times a week, apparently having finished them all in that time. Just as often she had found him working various different jobs at the pub. He was an attentive waiter, a fun and sensitive bartender, quick and thorough bus boy, and a great cook. Finally Sunday would roll around and he'd be at their estate all day, tending to the animals, gardens, and lawns as well as checking and clearing the pathways in their forest and noting the progression of certain animals for her father.

The last job was the one she least understood but found herself thinking of the most often. It seems that Harry, in recent years, began working at the local garage.

Her face heated. Thinking about how she had spied him that Saturday, the point-me spell finding him at the muggle auto-mechanic in town. He was underneath a huge pick-up truck when another man working on a motor-bike called for him and he rolled out from beneath it. His sweat glistened from him and smears of grease marred his beautiful body. The body in question was huge, tall and muscular, muscles which shifted and bulged as he picked up the bike. There were dozens of small tattoos all over him she had never known of but that suddenly stood out, pulsing as he lifted. She was too distracted by his low belt showing off the enticing V that made her allure come to life at the time to give it thought, but later as she thought more of the way he looked then, she recalled her new findings and found that she could recognize the tattoos as Runes, but none that she actually understood or had seen before.

He was so peculiar. Not once was she able to figure out what he did at night when he wasn't staying in the stables and playing soft music to the horses and creatures there like lullabies late into the night.

"Fleur!" she heard her mother beckoning. "Dinner, dear!"

She watched for another moment as Harry and Gabriell were called to dinner as well. Gabi seemed to convince Harry to join them this evening, and at that revelation Fleur began unconsciously preening herself, magic flaring usefully and making her features all the more attractive while hurrying to the dinning room where they ate on weekends.

Adeline, Fleur's grandmother, was happily greeting Harry and Gabi in the foyer as she sat at her place at the table.

"... Well actually, I work on special effects at some muggle musical concerts every so often throughout the year. I'm gaining something of a reputation it seems. When I sent notice I'd be unavailable for the next year I apparently disappointed many people. They're already trying to sign me two years in advance! It's all very humbling."

"Harry, darling, if you were more humble they'd have to come up with a new word." Fleur glanced at her mother. They seemed much closer to him this year.

He blushed and looked down, chuckling to himself, amusing her mother and grandmother tremendously. After pulling out the chairs for all of the women he had walked in with, Harry sat himself next to Gabi and across from Fleur.

"I'm afraid we'll miss you quite a bit after you leave. We've grown fond of your company, darling. Do promise to write? And we hope to see you over the holidays, Harry."

"What?" Fleur asked, interrupting Harry as he began to answer. She blushed and apologized, though looked back at Harry. "You are leaving?"

"Yes, later this evening once I collect my things from the barn." His head tilted to the side. "You seem so surprised."

Clearing her throat, Fleur called upon her grace and confidence. "Yes, well, I know nearly nothing of you and was hoping to perhaps be a bit friendlier this Summer."

Harry and Fleur both ignored the looks the rest of the table shot one another. He smiled softly at her, allowing the world to drift away for the moment. "I'm sorry to have ruined that hope for you, Fleur, but I appreciate the sentiment. I'll be packing my things all night, though, so if you'd like to help me or talk while I do that, I certainly wouldn't mind."

Nodding, Fleur tore her gaze from his eyes and picked at her food. "You're inviting Fleur to your room?" Gabi asked in shock. "No one but Father has been up in your room, though!"

"Gabi, do not whine at dinner. It is rude and not appropriate for your age. You've spent plenty enough time with Harry, I think Fleur would perhaps like to spend some time getting to know him alone before he leaves. And lets not forget your father promised to take us up there to see how he's redone it later this week. Patience, dear."

The young veela deflated and sighed. "Yes, Mama."

Adeline laughed. "Oh, Harry, you just have the attentions of all of the Krossing Veela, don't you?" That caught Fleur's interest. Any veela from her grandmother's family was considered to be a Krossing Veela, perhaps the most politically powerful veela in the world. "Kris and Sandra will be crushed to hear of your spending time with young Fleur here. Not that I particularly mind. Maybe they'll stop releasing their full allure so frequently around you."

Appoline nodded in agreement. "And maybe we won't have to house them for weeks at a time now with you not being here. It will be much quieter this year, though... What with my baby girl going to school, and now you leaving..."

Harry smiled at her. "Then you'll have plenty of time to use the gift I'm leaving you. Jean agreed and I put it all together in the attic, ready for you when you get bored."

"Oh, Harry darling! You shouldn't have... What is it?"

He shook his head and laughed. "I'll give you a hint, but that's all. It has something to do with what I showed you and taught you about muggle arts and technologies. Beyond that, my lips are sealed."

_Maybe I can unseal those lips..._ Fleur thought, shocking herself. As her mother tried to guess what she was getting, Fleur waded in her own thoughts of how much Harry seemed to mean to her family and why, as well as why she hadn't known of his leaving sooner.

Dinner came to an end and she left after her mother, sister, and grandmother gave some very emotional goodbyes to the boy she had been near obsessing over. She fell easily into step with him as they took the path to the barn.

"So, Harry, why exactly are you leaving now? It seems Mother did not think to mention it to me when the decision came to be."

He glanced at her for a moment, probably sensing her slightly annoyed tone. "She was merely respecting my privacy, Fleur. I'm sure she didn't think you'd mind not knowing right away. But to answer your question, my parents were able to find me on my birthday in May and came to visit... well, to take me home, actually, but I convinced them that there were responsibilities I needed to fulfill here before I could leave."

"Your parents? I-" She blushed, but when he looked at her again she found herself unable to hold her tongue. "I always assumed you to be an orphan, I suppose."

He laughed. "Not quite, though I completely understand how you would come about that conclusion. I suppose no good will come of keeping the truth from you, as it is a rather public thing, but I'm actually Hadrian Potter, heir to the Potter and Black families of England. Perhaps you've heard my name mentioned a time or two in the press, though it's understandable if you haven't. It isn't exactly a super hot topic here, though back in England it seems it is a huge deal..."

Hadrian Potter Black, the runaway brother to the boy-who-lived. The news had, indeed, been all over the story, both at the time and more recently as it was, in fact, Harry's coming-of-age birthday and it had been reported that the Potter family had found him and gone to him and would soon be reunited again. They were a near royal family in England, actually they did hold nobility in the muggle world as well as some real power in the magical world. The topic had been gone over once in a class a few years back, and revisited over the spring when it came up, so she did know what he was talking about.

The Potters, it seemed, pushed their eldest son to the sidelines as time went on, focusing their affections and attentions on their famous champion child. It was reported that the Potters weren't even precisely sure when their heir had left, merely that he wasn't there when Albus Dumbledore went for tea that fateful morning.

"Heir to the Black family?" was all she could think to ask, walking into the warm barn.

"Yes. My grandmother was a daughter in the direct Black family line and my Godfather, Sirius Black, had made it clear that the title was to be left to me before he was killed by Voldemort."

They ascended the ladder and Fleur gaped when she saw the barn attic. It buzzed of magic and elegance. He had, at some point, created rooms in the attic and she was standing in a large billiard, sitting room. Comfortable leather and suede chairs were scattered about in a neat fashion, surrounding a poker table and pool table, each of which seemed to be hand made and carved, very carefully, with intricate moving designs. Likewise, there were names carved into the chairs around the poker table, one of which was her father's, another which was Harry's. At one end of the room there sat a beautiful bar, a few stools in front of it, next to which was an impressive fire place. On the other end of the room was a huge screen she guessed to be a muggle TV, built into the wall, game consoles and other muggle devices she couldn't recognize also placed carefully into the wall underneath the TV.

"This is... amazing, Harry. Did you do all of this yourself? Your eye for decor is wonderful!"

He grinned at her. "Thanks. Would you like to see my favorite feature?" he asked, turning and moving to the stereo that was in place under the TV when she nodded. He turned it on, pressing a few buttons, and music began flowing into the room from all sides. He nodded to the walls and Fleur looked on in awe as the beautiful carvings surrounding the stereos began twisting and curling in beat with the music. Animals and plants also came to life in their designated areas, wild horses happily running up and down the walls jovially, then into the carved forests where some of them disappeared and others reappeared.

She turned back to him, not bothering to mask her awe this time. It was, perhaps, the single most amazing design she had ever seen in a home. "You did all of this?" He nodded. "Marvelous! There is so much I don't know about you, it seems."

He looked at her for a moment, studying her, before smiling softly making her heart pound. "Well, that's what tonight is for then, isn't it? Getting to know me? I'm afraid your family has filled me in on just who Miss Fleur Kristine Delacour is, and it only seems fair you have the opportunity to have likewise information."

He made way to the door and opened it, Fleur following closely behind. He smelled wonderful, woodsy, though tinged with gasoline and cigarettes. It made her head swim briefly.

"This is the drawing room, as you can probably tell. And the study. I suppose starting the packing here is appropriate..."

It was with great interest that Fleur watched him pull a muggle cell phone from his pocket, touching a few buttons before lifting his finger from the screen. Her eyes widened, in what was perhaps a comical fashion, as she saw a small trunk sticking to his index finger, being pulled from the phone. Not noticing her shock, Harry moved his finger out slightly, dropping the trunk which rapidly expanded and landed softly on the ground. One beautiful word and tap of the finger later and the top popped open.

"Techno-magic. Your father's friends helped me obtain a license to experiment with the muggle devices here in France. I've patented everything I've created so far; who would have thought hosting poker and pool a few nights a week would do me so much use?" he joked. Fleur found herself unable to laugh, however. He had created all of this?

"So this is where my father disappears to when he's 'out with the boys', then?" she asked, throat a little dry. She cleared it as he grinned.

"Guilty as charged. I greatly enjoy all of the company, though. They give such useful advice, and honestly, I have a very good standing behind the scenes in your government now. Luck seems to have paid me back a bit."

He drew a beautiful, shining wand from the phone as he had the trunk and began easing the wonderful artwork that was covering the un-carved spots of the wooden walls into the trunk wordlessly. She made a note of all of the famous muggle art he seemed to have, and how many of the hanging pieces were changing into different paintings or pictures as time passed. There were also magical and non-magical portraits hanging that spoke amongst themselves, smiling as they looked on at the two of them and eventually were packed away.

Fleur walked over to the huge book shelf and instantly realized that there were many books there that Harry shouldn't have had. They looked to be the menageries of different magical families, both retired and current. She decided against commenting, however, as the only current families books who she saw there were ones she realize were not 'good' families. No, they were notoriously bad and usually dark families, varying from different places around the world. That was a note she would not quickly forget, however.

Most of the other books were informational or ones so old she didn't understand the titles or recognize the author's name. There were a few muggle classics as well, two of which she read and smiled at when she saw them.

She moved from the book selves, noting that Harry had just about finished putting all of the hangings into his trunk and was moving to the library himself. She saw there was a wonderful computer with top of the line devices hooked up to it resting on an unsurprisingly tasteful desk. The camera next to it made her laugh as she realized what her mother's present was. Harry chuckled as well.

"I worked in your house earlier last month when your mother was busy or sleeping and made her a dark room to go with her new found interest. It's a mix of magical and muggle supplies, but I think she's going to be much happier with the computer programs for her photography. She really likes the art. Have you looked at any of her work lately? It's amazing."

Fluer shook her head. "No, but I'll definitely mention it to her tomorrow. I'm sure we'll spend a lot of time in here for the rest of vacation."

Fluer continued her inspection of the room and saw musical instruments lined a depression in the wall, guitars, basses, synthesizers, drums, violins... the list went on. Basically, if it were musical, Harry seemed to have it. Some of the instruments seemed to be hand crafted and she looked toward him when she saw a hand-made flute, littered with runes resting on a special shelf alone. "Most animals, creatures, and even plants seem particularly responsive to music, and I made that flute when I realized it. It's a magical flute of sorts... I can mentally control the volume of it, or how far out the sound will travel, who will be able to hear it... that sort of thing. It's been very useful."

She smiled and continued on in her exploration to a corner which seemed dedicated to more art. There were shelves upon shelves of supplies. Canvases were stacked neatly and sketch pads well organized, titled by subject or date. The ones entitled 'runic designs' piqued her interest, but Harry was quickly moving through his packing so she sorted the detail away as something to continue on with later, her list of interesting topics about him quickly growing larger.

Turning from the table she moved to a couch and sat on it. "You seem to be quite well rounded."

He nodded. "Yes. I love learning and trying out new things. I'm rather fond of art... if you didn't already notice that, but it's a great way to relax and unwind a bit."

"Where do you find the time for all of this? I know you work everyday doing other things as well, and I understand that you travel occasionally when the opportunity arises, also," she wondered allowed.

Again he smiled. "I make time. That and I find sleeping utterly pointless. I'll ask you keep it to yourself, but I haven't slept since I was three years old." Her disbelief must have been obvious as he continued on. "I'm a metamorphagus and have figured out how to manipulate my body so it doesn't need sleep. It's dead useful, I assure you, but every once in a while I'll sleep, just for the sake of dreaming."

"For the rest of the night, Harry, you will not surprise me. I think I understand now that you simply know and do everything that seems impossible and amazing, so I'll just expect amazing things." Where was this coming from? It seemed an awful lot like flirting to Fleur, and she hardly ever flirted with men, let alone men she was alone with who were dangerously attractive.

Feeling she was done inspecting the room, Harry waved his wand in a circle and most of the things shrunk and began heading to the trunk, quickly filling it and leaving the room near empty.

"What is your wand made out of, Harry? I don't think I've ever seen one like it before."

"Well, I made this from wood and metal, though the center is filled with magical gems inside which hold different magical cores. It's the greatest focuser of energy I've ever touched, though when I'm practicing magic I'll usually use a normal one I won in a duel back when I was ten."

"You duel, also? I didn't know that."

He nodded. "Yes, magical and physical. I like fighting, it relieves something inside of me, but I would never start a fight. And I feel it's a good measure of how well I am doing physically and mentally."

"So why are you leaving now? I mean, I know your family came to get you, but you didn't leave with them… Do you even want to go?"

He withheld an answer for a while, thinking on it as they went in what looked to be an armory, dozens upon dozens of weapons and fighting materials stacked and hanging from every spot available, muggle and non. Some seemed to be relics of the past and others seemed to be top of the line. There were even muggle explosives secured away in locked boxes, neatly labeled.

"I suppose I liked it here too much. I've had an opportunity to really live a great life here in France and I'm more than a bit attached. Your father just owns so much land and I've really been able to refine my abilities and talents while working and living here. That and the quaint muggle town has grown on me; the people and the different niches I have had there since I got here. I know in the future I won't really be able to live the life I'd like- a common life without great responsibilities, where the goals are easily achievable and the people nice and friendly. I've been able to make a name for myself here, on my own and without the aid of anyone, and I really do think it's one of the greatest things, growth wise, that I'll ever experience."

They moved to the next room which he explained to be his 'experimental room', where he toyed with different magics, crafted runes, did rituals, and even made his own jewelry. Fleur began asking easier questions, like what job was his favorite, what muggle concerts were and what it was like to work at one or watch one, what areas of the world he visited and loved, which places he hated, until finally, they had talked their way into the last room of the barn, his bedroom.

It was a normal looking bedroom with a comfortable chair in one corner, bathroom on the side, and closet next to it. His bed, however, was huge and she blushed when the thought crossed her mind how much she would like to not-sleep on it with Harry. While he went to the closet to remove his clothes, Fleur moved to the small desk in the room and noticed a few letters scattered about. Harry walked into the room and quickly had everything organized and heading into the trunk.

"Well, I'm pretty much done here, now, Fleur. And, I'm not sure if you've realized, but it's just about four in the morning. I should leave soon..."

She started. Now that he mentioned it, she was exhausted, but all at once not tired at all. She was conflicted, suddenly. She didn't want him to go, but how to make him stay?

"I'd... I'd like to write to you this summer, Fleur? If you'd like to correspond, that is. I know Beauxbatons is going to Hogwarts this upcoming year, don't ask me how, I promised your father I wouldn't tell, and I can't see you not going there as well. So, perhaps we can keep in touch through letters before you arrive in England? Or maybe I'll be able to visit a few time this summer, if you'd like to meet up? Or, if you're interested…" he looked down and stuffed a hand into one of his pockets before pulling his shoulders back and looking into her eyes confidently. "If you're interested, maybe I can take you out on a date and we can talk more.

She smiled at him and embraced him in a hug, allowing her veela magic to wrap around his own magic and molded her body up against his own tall, muscular frame. He stiffened slightly, something she wouldn't have noticed had she not been hoping for it, but she grinned at his reaction. "I would like nothing better, Harry. But now for something to remember me by," she whispered, pulling his head down and gently pressing their lips together for a tender, heart stopping first kiss. _The first of many_. She made the mental promise to herself as the kiss ended and she lightly pecked him once more, removing herself from him. "Goodnight, Harry. I hope everything goes well in England."

"I'll be in touch, Fleur. Take care of Gabi for me." They smiled shyly at each other once more before Harry turned on his heel and disapparated from the barn.

With a final sigh, Fleur began to walk back toward her home, sky lightening in the early morning dawn. _Yes_, she thought, _being in_touch_with Harry..._It was a nice thought, and she doubted she'd think of much more than the tall, muscular, messy haired young man any time soon.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> So I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. I look forward to reviews, and yes, Harry will likely be a little more Mary Sue in this world than all of the fantastic kick ass stories I've read. I'm sorry, and I'm working on it. Have a great Memorial Day Weekend, and God Bless all of the soldiers who risk their lives and who have died for their countries.

-xKristyLynn


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